I Want You In The Most Unromantic Way
by WorldAlone
Summary: Sometimes it's what they need, but this time, it's what they want.


"Haymitch." Effie murmured as she heard the drunk stride past her door late at night. His feet stopped, she could tell by the shadow under the door. "Could you sleep in here?" The escort asked quietly.

Haymitch let out a loud sigh. Effie Trinket seemed to take the Games well, but not is time. Perhaps it was because she liked to believe Katniss and Peeta's little love story. The man opened the door slowly, walking inside. Effie lay on the bed, most of her makeup scrubbed off her face and her hair out of the wig.

This wasn't the first time Haymitch had seen her like this. They'd spent many nights curled together while their tributes fought to the death. Neither felt completely comfortable watching, but the other always helped.

Effie moved towards Haymitch. She rested her head on his chest. He wore the scruffy shirt and trousers he'd been wearing all day, but she wore an extravagant, elaborate, eccentric nightgown. The drunk's hand rested on her waist, kissing her hair. He comforted her, assuring her that their tributes were alive, and he'd keep it that way. These Games were different, wrong. She knew he was doing something, but she still worried for Katniss and Peeta.

He didn't want to admit that he felt something, so he didn't. They'd both been living in a cycle of going to the Games, loosing tributes and comforting each other with soft kisses and secret, quiet, passionate sex. This felt like one of those nights. One where Haymitch would ask, and she would allow.

"Effie, can I?" He asked, kissing her neck gently. He was always a gentleman with her, taking her hand, asking permission, taking charge.

The escort's perfectly manicured nails wound around his collar, pulling his rough, worn, old-beyond-his-time, face towards hers. Her slightly parted lips were the giveaway. His head lowered, their lips diving into a passionate, fiery kiss. Though she was passionate, Effie Trinket was not an animal. She was a lady.

She pushed him down gently, pressing her palms to his chest. He pulled her nightgown over her head, slipping it off and dropping it to the floor. He gave her a crooked smile, taking in her figure. She was beautiful. She was always beautiful. He didn't care that she looked like another Capitol citizen. Maybe he wouldn't choose for her to wear those dresses, but she liked to. These things made her comfortable, and that's what mattered.

Before he knew it, he'd been stripped down by Effie. She was gentle and delicate. Haymitch smiled a little, kissing her neck gently and cupping her pale, petite breasts. She let out a small whimper.

"I'm going to make you scream." He promised, kissing the soft skin near her ear.

"Whores scream, ladies moan." She whispered back, kissing his head and running her hands through his hair. It was Effie who eased herself onto him gently. Her pristine, soft skin against his rough and scarred body.

The escort pushed herself up, a faint taste of alcohol after kissing the mentor, but not as much as usual. She didn't mind; it was who he was. As long as he could help Katniss and Peeta out.

She blushed a little as she let Haymitch watch her. The woman always kept her back straight and her hands outstretched. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes always open, occasionally squinting to try to hold back the sounds she would make.

When they were both panting, reaching their edge, Haymitch flipped her slowly, moving quickly while she dug her sharp nails into his back and tugged on his hair. She moaned loudly, keeping him close.

The euphoria which followed was better than anything. Better than alcohol, better than a new outfit. Better than whiskey and champagne. Better than a quiet night in with a bottle of vodka or any wild party.

She laid on his chest afterwards, staring up at the ceiling. They almost felt selfish. Katniss and Peeta were out fighting. Yet it seemed so right. This time it was different. This time it wasn't to relieve stress or calm down. It was simply because they wanted to. He wanted to keep it like that, as did she.

"I love you," The drunk whispered.

"I love you, too." The blonde replied, closing her eyes.

They were polar opposites, but they shared something important.


End file.
